That awkward moment...

...when you say "I love you!" before you hang up the phone with a boy in Utah who you totally DO love but you had no intention of telling him that.

Oh crap.

A non-sanctioned blog post!

I feel like everyone must have a dysfunctional family, at least to a certain extent. Is YOUR family totally neurotic? I feel like my family is one of those Facebook tagging pictures or something. You know, The Arrogant One, The Sweet One, The Sarcastic One, The One With Zero Personality, The Selfish One, The Inappropriate One, The One That Tries Too Hard, The Control Freak, The Smart One, The Annoying One... That sort of thing. (Hey family. Tag yourselves.)

Anyway, I always have a hard time dealing with my family. Because I do love them (most of them). But I feel like if we weren't family, we probably wouldn't even be friends, you know? That's the weird thing about family. You don't even necessarily like them but you're stuck with them because you all share a couple chromosomes or something. I don't know... something like that. I don't know anything about genetics.

But being surrounded by people that you're supposed to like based on social norms is stressful for me. Because a lot of times people are stupid and ridiculous and I don't know what the eff is wrong with them and they just need to get over it already because SERIOUSLY PEOPLE! Large group settings mess with my head anyway.

Except that that's not really true 100% of the time. When I was in Utah, I met Matt's entire family. Like, extended family. 2 of his 3 sisters and 1 of his 2 brothers, and their families, in addition to Matt's parents. And I feel like I could get along with all of them forever. Why am I more tolerant of his family than of mine? Are they just that much more awesome? That can't be it.

Okay, they're pretty awesome. Matt's mom is a judge. Matt's dad is a pediatrician. His sister works for Mitt Romney's campaign and he like... calls her directly. And her two little girls are precious. His other sister is a lawyer. His aunt Kay is the coolest person I've ever met, and she's a guardian ad litem. His third sister is a photographer. Matt is studying photography at BYU. He goes to all his nephews' football games and takes pictures for their teams. His brothers are an architect and... like... the creator of Nu Skin or something. And they ALL GET ALONG. Like really really well. And I got along with all of them too.

Is it that we can't tolerate our own families as well as other families? Is it that I'm more compatible with the awesome Mormon family than with my own? I feel kind of... okay, REALLY guilty about feeling that way. But seriously. They're all like... healthy, wealthy and well-adjusted. It's exactly the kind of family I've always wanted, with a million people that all love each other like crazy. And my family is awesome and cool and usually decently well-behaved.

But seriously. Mitt Romney calls her. That's way cooler than anything we've got going for us.

How you like me now, college?!

I just aced my history exam. That's right. Let's talk about how I just aced my history exam. Actually, let's not because I don't even have that much to say except that I made that test my bitch. And I made my English Comp portfolio my hooker. And I smoked my last speech like weed.

'Kay, that didn't make any sense whatsoever. But I'm just saying that I'm awesome. I got a safe full of cherries cuz I pop it and lock it.

This is my final post that counts for a journal entry, because after this I've met my quota. And unfortunately I have nothing to really say in it except for talk about how freakin' awesome I am. Which is funny because usually I talk about how un-awesome I am. Nice change of pace, from low self-confidence to narcissist in 1 post!

Anyway. Shut up and watch this youtube video.

These pancakes are super thick, mom!

Gets me every time.

Procrastinator.

It's 2:37 am and I'm exhausted but still awake. I have been cramming and frantically writing all weekend and I'm pretty sure this is how 90% of people in real colleges feel quite often, when they have real-college assignments due and real-college finals to study for.

I just finished my portfolio for 2 different classes... Illustrations and Composition. Right up to the wire on both of them... that's my style. The last paper I wrote I finished 30 minutes before class and got a 96%. I spent about an hour on the whole thing. It seems like the less I try, the better I do. That's a horrible life lesson, kids, but it's proving to be true for me.

I put my Comp portfolio on astrobright paper. My revisions are on neon pink. And I mean neon... retina-burning soul-on-fire pink. I figure if they hurt to read my teacher will assume they are okay and give me an okay grade without really reading them because reading them physically hurts. It's genius, actually. Provided it has the desired effect.

My illustrations class was such a fun class. Like insanely enjoyable. I got to draw cute little doodles of kids all the time and I got college credit for it. And that's my kind of class.... doing things I would be doing anyway and then getting credit for it. Why doesn't my entire life work like that? Why don't I get paid to eat food and sing in the shower?

Speaking of singing, I got a part in my church Christmas program. I'm the alto part in O Holy Night. It's a quartet, and we're singing it a cappella. It makes me a little nervous, but I think I can do it. And I was really really happy to be picked. I KNEW there was a reason I went to church today! I almost didn't because I was stressed out.

Now at least I don't have to worry about school again for a little while. Now I just have to worry about finishing a pair of shoes, cleaning the house for company and baking a German chocolate cake in the next 2 days. Swell...

Movie Review: Thankskilling

Tagline: "Gobble Gobble, Motherf*cker."

My best friend and I love campy D-movie horror, so this movie was an obvious choice for us. And it had everything you could ever want in a D-movie horror flick:

1. Boobs

2. Wildly farfetched plot

3. Unlikely villain

4. Wholly un-engaging storyline

5. A slut, a nerd, a jock and a girl-next door character (who die in that order)

6. High school theatre-quality special effects

All that and more are presented in this delightfully horrendous movie. The plot goes something like this: minutes after the first Thanksgiving, a turkey comes after the pilgrims seeking bloody revenge. And then has returned in present times for more bloody revenge. 5 college students are on their way home for Thanksgiving and encounter the turkey, and all hell breaks loose.

The turkey in question is, I'm pretty sure, a rubber hand puppet. The blood looks to be teriyaki sauce and red food coloring. The lines are contrived. The very first scene of the movie features a close-up of a nipple, panning back to an inexplicably topless pilgrim running frantically through the woods, chased by the homicidal turkey. At one point the college students find a book... a field guide to homicidal turkeys of sorts that is written in a math code and can only be deciphered by the nerd of the group. It's oddly specific, too. "The turkey can usually be found in his teepee. If he's not in the teepee, he's most likely killing your friends."

In short, this movie is probably the best worst thing ever.

I will leave you with a line from the movie:

Jock: Looks like I got something you don't, Turkey!

Killer Turkey: What's that Darren... a vagina?

Brilliant.

Suck it, Iowa.

I went to Iowa this weekend and it didn’t go great. My grandmother had a stroke a few months ago and is in a care facility, and we went out to make her a nice Thanksgiving dinner and spend some time with her. For some reason we ended up having brunch instead. Don’t ask me how that happened.

My dad’s family is kind of insane. And there were a bunch of people at this brunch who did not need to be there. One was my aunt’s mother-in-law, who was 90, and one was my other aunt’s mother-in-law who is just... well the first thing she said to me was “And who are you?” I wanted to be like, “Who am I? Hooker, who are YOU?” So she was special. I'm actually kicking myself that my response wasn't "Your worst nightmare, bitch." That would have been timely.

But the 90 year old, Betty, asked about my dad, and then was like, “and you’re a nurse, right?” And I was like, “No, that’s my mom you’re thinking of.” And she proceeded to say, “Oh! I was wondering if you were his wife, but I said to myself, ‘she’s gained some weight!’ so I just wasn’t sure.” Sooooo yeah. Apparently I am fat and old now. Sweeeeet. Apparently being 90 gives you the right to be socially retarded or something.

Then. Later. We go to Chick-Fil-A. Which I love, especially since there isn’t one in Omaha. But all of a sudden I start feeling hot... and dizzy... and nauseous. So I get up and go to the bathroom. And it’s a good thing, because after leaning against the wall of the stall for a minute, I totally puked my guts out. On the dirty floor of a public bathroom. With some Christian pop music playing over the speakers. It was almost poetic. “I raise my hands up to the sky, we’re all in need of Jesus!!” *vomit* So then I was old, fat, AND puking.

And I spent the whole 5 hour car-trip home with my head between my knees trying not to lose it again.

My conclusion? Iowa can suck it.

A Week From Now...

...it will be Thanksgiving. Which, by the way, is an effed up holiday. Here's what Thanksgiving means to me: A long time ago in like the 1600's or something there were these people who came over to America (which wasn't even America back then) on a ship. They landed in what is now referred to as New England. Plymouth specifically. But the "pilgrims" as they were called, who were English, didn't know what the eff was going on and most of them starved and froze to death the first winter there. Then the kindly natives were like, "These people are harshing our mellow," and taught them to plant crops and hunt and stuff and basically to be useful human beings. So the 50 or so pilgrims who survived this whole ordeal were like, "let's totally celebrate up in here!" and threw a jumpin' party. And by "party" I mean they ate squash. And then later they shot the Native Americans who helped them survive, all in the name of irony I'm sure, and took their land. Because they were better than those savages, dammit.

So, being Americans, we feel a moral obligation to distort the CRAP out of true meanings of holidays. So we made Thanksgiving about eating a wildly gluttonous amount of food and then sleeping and watching football for the rest of the day. Isn't that just the spirit of America? A holiday that celebrates back-stabbery, racism, obesity and laziness. U-S-A! U-S-A!

Maybe my cynicism stems from the fact that I just don't like any holidays. Gatherings stress me out and make me hateful because large groups of people tend to be selfish, loud, and wholly irrational. Also, some members of my family are ridiculous and gross and prolonged exposure causes severe snark on part. I was born cynical and I grew into my sarcasm.

Can I please just run away?

I got the haircut from hell.

I payed $103.32 to get my hair cut and my streak rebleached today and guess what I got? 30-year-old virgin hair and bleach spots in my hair. Yeah. BLEACH SPOTS. Because dear, darling Cassie who doesn't know Geometry from Geography (seriously, actually came out of her mouth) couldn't seem to be careful with the bleach. Because apparently it's totally okay to be sloppy about things. And apparently it's okay to not listen to your client at all and do whatever you think will look super-duper awesome.

Hey Cassie? You can suck a big bag of dicks.

And I would have made her fix it, but I didn't know it was bad at the time. Because right at the start I got something horrible in my contact and it fell out and shriveled up immediately. And when you're only wearing 1 contact, you may as well be wearing none. Because you can't focus on anything and it makes you wanna puke. So I couldn't see anything. While I was getting my hair done. MY HAIR. Worst. Timing. Ever.

Now I don't know what to do with myself except cry and wish I was dead I guess. More than usual, I mean.

I'm Obsessed with The History Channel.

No, seriously... Ob. Sessed.

I cannot get enough of History. I mean like for realz, y'all. Ancient Aliens! Mega Disasters! Cities of the Underworld! UFO Files! Jurassic Fight Club! How the Earth Was Made! The States! I cannot get enough. I know, I know, I'm a total nerd. But like... Dinosaurs, Aliens, Space, Presidents. Those are basically all my favorite things. I'm pretty much obsessed with all of it.

I also really like that show Through the Wormhole with Morgan Freeman because mothereffing Morgan Freeman, you guys! I spent my entire day yesterday catching up on all of the shows I had DVR'd in the last few weeks. I watched 3 hours of Ancient Aliens, an hour of Cities of the Underworld about Romania and Dracula and all that awesome, and also an episode of Nostradamus Effect. I'm just like... oh my gosh, so much history!

I know I’m a nerd. But like... that’s what makes me awesome. The fact that I’m a total nerd. I mean, I was at Hobby Lobby the other day and I found a set of unpainted nesting dolls and what immediately came to mind? President nesting dolls. PRESIDENT NESTING DOLLS YOU GUYS. I just have to decide which presidents to use. I need 6. Who were the 6 most influential and/or distinguishable presidents? Washington and Lincoln, obviously. And Teddy Roosevelt. But who else? JFK? Andrew Jackson? Grant? Taft? If I did Taft I would obviously have to make him the biggest one... Get it? Because he was obese?

Maybe I’ll do Obama for one just because... you know... he’s black and everything. And it might make for some nice contrast. I just can’t decide who the most influential presidents were. It’s so hard. But seriously, I think it would make an awesome Christmas gift. Matt would appreciate it.

Oh Gosh, did I just out-nerd myself?

Organize yo life.

I'm trying to organize my life. It's not going great.

It's mostly not going great because I don't know where to start. I'm in need of a serious purge. I need to get rid of 90% of the stuff I have cluttering up my life right now and then begin anew. I just am not entirely sure how to begin doing this. It's become a rather large undertaking unfortunately and there is not a dumpster big enough to make this happen quickly or smoothly.

Here's one problem: I have over 100 pairs of shoes. What I'm wondering is how you STORE 100 pairs of shoes. Most shoe storage shelves are made for a bunch of size 7 flats. This is great, if you wear only size 7 flats. But I wear size 10 stilettos on a regular basis. I also wear knee-high boots on a regular basis. It's basically either boots or stilettos, or Toms if I'm feeling lazy. So how do you store 10 pairs of boots, 30 pairs of stilettos, 8 pairs of tennis shoes, 40 pairs of flip flops and a bunch of other miscellaneous footwear? If you have an answer to this question, you are much smarter and more innovative that I.

Here's another problem: my closet is filled with boxes. Just... boxes piled on boxes piled on more boxes. So I don't have anywhere to store my clothes, which I have too many of in the first place. So it's all this horrendous vicious cycle of mess because I don't know what to do with anything or where to put anything. And Pinterest doesn't help because everyone's dream houses are always so clean and neat and rustic but chic and modern at the same time and I just don't know how they do it.

I'm very frustrated with myself for being so messy. I'm like 4 cats away from being a TV show on TLC, I swear. I don't know what to do with myself! aizehrsgkjvehz;dfiblk HELP ME PLEASE.

A Comprehensive List of Things That Suck, Part 2

I highlighted my favorite ones again.

68. The Federalist papers

69. The word “vaginal.”

70. Taking notes while reading

71. When people give you some searching look, and you ask “what?” and they look away and pretend to be nonchalant and say “oh, nothing.”

72. How when you get a new operating system on your computer, it doesn’t really change anything except the little things you really like. (Yeah, Snow Leopard, I’m talkin’ ‘bout you.”

73. Our stupid unicameral.

74. The word “Stinky.”

75. How when I wear any kind of V-neck I show cleavage and look inevitably slutty, but people with small boobs can wear a shirt with a v-neck to their belly button and it’s ok people you still can’t see anything.

76. Feminine Hygiene Product commercials. (Always stupid, always uncomfortable.)

77. When your lipstick accidentally ends up in the washer.

78. Unloading the dishwasher.

79. The way I actually shed more than the cat or the dog.

80. Cellulite.

81. The way necklaces turn around and you forget you’re wearing them and therefore are walking around with the chain clasp showing like ALL DAY.

82. When your nose really, really itches but you can’t scratch it without looking like you’re picking your nose.

83. Chain emails!!!

84. CHAIN TEXTS!!!!!!

85. When I’m texting and it’s been like half an hour since I sent the text and the recipient hasn’t texted me back so I look at my phone and it turns out I didn’t even send the message.

86. People who use small animals as accessories.

87. Falling asleep in public.

88. My stupid spider fingers.

89. When you’re chewing gum and it’s all gross and flavorless and you desperately want to spit it out but there’s no place to do it so you just keep chewing.

90. When anyone feels the need to call me “Shorty” or “Boo.”

91. Red Pick-up trucks. Seriously, it’s a jerk car. Everyone I know with a red truck? I totally can’t stand!

92. When people call me "kid" or "kiddo." Especially if they're YOUNGER than me.

93. When there are just like, random traffic cones in the road for no apparent reason.

94. When streets don’t have turn lanes!

95. When ignorant people ask if because I’m from Nebraska, I drive a tractor to school. I usually answer “no, I ride a horse.”

96. When people DO drive tractors. On highways. Really slow. Across both lanes. Believe me, it happens WAY more than it should.

97. Rush Limbaugh

98. World of Warcraft- the very idea of it.

99. The way schools are constantly freezing all the time.

100. Smelling like food.

101. When people try to stifle my creativity. (Ex. “No, you don’t need to paint those, they look just fine.”)

102. When people randomly take off their shoes in public. And then their feet smell really bad. That is so not ok.

103. The awful sound alarm clocks make.

104. Highly specific internet polls, and their largely unsurprising results. (Do you know an animal that has saved someone’s life? 97% said no.)

105. The fact that I know all the words to “Womanizer.”

106. Old Men who reckon they’re really good with computers. (They’re not.)

107. Unimaginative newspaper headlines. (“Obama to Give Speech”)

108. Not being invited to weddings I didn’t want to go to anyway. (Ahem, DAD.)

109. Inappropriate-looking sign language that I help but laugh at.

110. The way fat comedians always feel the need to wear patterned suits. (That’s right, John Candy, that means you.)

111. When people read joke books in public.

112. My stupid passport picture in which I look like I’m a bow-tie wearing vampire who doesn’t own a hair brush.

113. Self-righteous religious bigots.

114. Trying to take a photo when your camera is set to video mode.

115. Not knowing whether or not someone is still alive. “Oh yeah. Wait, is he still around?” “…I have no idea.”

116. Crying clowns.

117. When people feel the need to do “the party boy.”

118. Really thin strips of facial hair.

118 and a half. Actually, most facial hair in general.

119. When people think the saxophone is sexy.

120. People who go to Disney World and then act miserable the whole time.

121. Halloween masks and the way they always smell weird.

122. Samuel L. Jackson’s hats.

123. The “Hey, everyone, I got that intellectual joke!” laugh people do at the movies sometimes.

124. The majority of my neighbour.

125. The way Tyler Perry perpetuates stereotypes in EVERY SINGLE MOVIE he makes.

126. Offensive spam emails.

127. Trying to take your coat off in the car.

128. When people squeeze your hand prematurely while shaking hands and you get stuck looking like a weenie.

129. Rebel flags. SERIOUSLY. The south lost the war, get over it.

130. Wine experts who say things such as “On the nose, hints of oak and leather.”

131. People who thing Physical Education is a viable exam subject at school. No, it’s totally not.

132. When people walk really slowly down the street in front of you and they take up the whole pavement so you can’t get by and when you do get by they give you a dirty look.

133. Americans who go abroad and instead of bothering to learn some useful phrases in the local language just speak really loudly and slowly like everyone else is an idiot.

134. America’s Got Talent. Is it named ironically?

135. Guys who think they’re really cool because they’re wearing a visor.

136. Abercrombie employees. I'm sorry your modeling career didn't work out. But you don’t have to be a lazy idiot. And you DEFINITELY don’t need to suggest I layer anything.

137. People who wear trashy graphic tees. “If You’re Cute, I’m Single.”

138. When people step on my toes, especially if I’m wearing fabulous shoes.

A Comprehensive List of Things That Suck, Part 1

I highlighted my favorite ones.

1. When people feel the need to take up two parking spaces

2. Doing math homework

3. Cigarettes, Cigarette smoke, People who smoke cigarettes near me.

4. The colour yellow

5. Cadillac Escalades, especially the pick-up truck ones.

6. Hyenas

7. When people who feel the need to hit, bang, rattle, or pound on the glass at the zoo.

8. People who spit in public on the sidewalk

9. 72nd Street, especially in the morning.

10. Mullets

11. Guys in v-necks or unbuttoned shirts with chest hair.

12. Mustaches.

13. The Kardashians

14. Depression

15. Math

16. Excessive Humidity

17. Excessive PDA

18. People who can't control their children and therefore don't care to attempt it.

19. People who think I'm a stripper (you know who you are, chain-smoking dingo freak.)

20. Unnecessarily loud chewing

21. When people poke me in the side

22. Coffee grounds

23. Insomnia

24. People who litter, especially in view of a waste receptacle (I LOVE the word receptacle).

25. People who feel the need to tell me obvious things, ie "You have huge boobs."

26. When you feel like you're going to sneeze and then don't.

27. Swallowing large pills.

28. When people explain to me calmly that I am going to hell.

29. Small-minded, uneducated, self-righteous school board members.

30. Monday

31. When people unnecessarily use pig latin

32. Windows operating systems

33. People who don't pay attention at stop lights

34. Open-toed boots. wtf.

35. Wind pants

36. People who tailgate me

37. How some metal turns my skin green

38. Losing an earring back

39. People who tell me I shouldn't recycle

40. When people cram their SUV's in compact parking

41. Shopping at the mall

42. Mediocrity

43. When I am the only one in the bathroom and someone chooses the stall next to mine even though there are like 20 other ones to choose from.

44. People who think "Pro-Choice" is the same as "Pro-Abortion"

45. Fox news

46. When a box is missing 1 or 2 crayons and then everything is all loose.

47. People who stick their gum under stuff and then I inadvertently touch it and feel dirty.

48. Alcohol

49. When people feel the need to make names "fancy" by misspelling them. (See Khanner/Conner)

50. That spooky non-Texas, Texas accent that Bush has.

51. Possums

52. When someone's dog poops on my sidewalk and they leave it there.

53. When people are like, "You don't look 18." Well guess what? I'm not. I'm older.

54. The fact that I feel the need to respond to said questions with "That's because I'm 40."

55. When people? end everything? With a question mark?

56. "Knocked Up." Stupidest movie EVERRRR.

57. When people don't know the difference between irony and coincidence.

58. That my dictionary doesn't recognize assface as a word.

58. When people don't get sarcasm.

59. When people tell me to google things. "Do you know how to get a business loan?" "Well, google it."

60. OBX stickers. Overseas, this style sticker identifies where the vehicle is from. Like, we have "Nebraska" on our plate, they would have UK. Then it became a trend in America starting with people putting "UK" on their car, which turned in to all other sorts of stupid, and I kind of want to kill you because there is NO WAY your car is actually registered in DMB (Dave Matthews Band).

61. When people RIGHT in front of you don't hold the door and drop it in your face.

62. Catfish.

63. All other kinds of freshwater fish

64. When people tell me what I want to do or am trying to do is impossible.

65. When I ask a question and people respond by asking how I don't already know. For instance, I’ll ask “How do you play sudoku?” and the person answers “You don’t know how to play sudoku?” If I knew, I wouldn't have asked.

66. When people use the elevator for one floor. Being fat and lazy doesn't count as a disability.

67. Most contestants on Jeopardy because come on, get over yourselves.

Another Sick-Bay Post

Sometimes I sit and draw wedding dresses on scraps of shiny white wrapping paper that my mother uses to wrap wedding gifts, and sometimes I go to bridal shops with a fake engagement ring and try on dresses, just to see what it would feel like to wear one.

Sometimes I look at BYU's website and read their course offerings and majors lists.

Sometimes I put on karaoke music and sing in the shower.

Sometimes I try to make fancy cupcakes 100% from scratch.

Sometimes I photoshop pictures to make my teeth whiter.

Sometimes I spend 3 or 4 hours looking at YSL and Christian Louboutin shoes online.

Sometimes I try to sew stuff that isn't from a pattern.

Sometimes I write things... I've been working on a novel for years.

Sometimes I forget to be an adult and dream like a child. Sometimes I enjoy myself. And then sometimes when I snap back to reality it hurts so much I can hardly breathe because I know that I will never be pretty enough to get married or smart enough to go to BYU, or rich enough to buy YSL or talented enough to really sing or sew or bake or get my work published. Crushing your dreams one at a time is one of the worst feelings.

If I Was President of The United States.

Here's a theoretical diary entry that I wrote because I'm insane.

Dear Diary,

It's a beautiful spring day here in Washington, and I wish I had the chance to take more of a walk than the one from the residence to the west wing. Rod and Michael played outside for a good portion of the day and I did enjoy Michael kicking his soccer ball. He really is daddy's boy, which is so good for both of them. Sometimes I just feel like I'm missing out. I can't really complain though because Rod and I enjoyed a little "alone time" in my private study while Michael was at kindergarten today. Never have I been more thankful that I decided to wear a skirt! We may have rattled a few screws loose on my desk, though. I need to get it looked at anyway.

The budget meetings ran long today, which was brutal. And since this is just between us, the Prime Minister of Israel can be a real dick sometimes. I'm so sick of him patronizing me the way he does. Do you think he called Clinton or Bush or Obama or Romney or O'Connor "dear"? I don't think so. At least I hope not. I don't know why he would call the leader of the free world "dear."

I finally made it up to the residence for dinner tonight for the first time this week. Michael was so thrilled and it made me feel terribly guilty. I need to get to dinner more often than I do. It's been so busy preparing for the summit that I haven't even eaten most nights. Lately I've been feeling rather nauseous. I hope it's just from stress.... otherwise... Oh, I can't even think about it. I would just have to consider myself fortunate that my second term is almost up.

These years have flown by so fast.

No time for nostalgia now. I had better get to bed... at this point I have about 6 hours to sleep which is a welcome night. Provided there isn't a national security crisis. Knock on wood.

With Love,

Kennedy Montgomery

I HATE I HATE I HATE

An excerpt from my journal while I was... sick...

I hate it when you start to make mac n cheese and then you realize you don't have milk so you're stuck with just buttery noodles covered in cheese powder. I hate it when people add you on Facebook and you don't want to be friends with them but you have to so you don't hurt their feelings.

I hate the hospital. I hate how they think painting a big yellow dinosaur on the wall is going to fix my problems. I hate Doodle Jump. I hate people who play the race card. I hate The Barefoot Contessa because she freaks me out, and I don't know why she's barefoot.

I hate it when people give their kids stupid names like Nevaeh and Wingspan and Soliloquy and Reign Beau and all that crazy. And I hate it when people spell regular names like an idiot. I hate Khanners and Cyrahs and Emaleighs and Gennyphers and Jesykahs.

I hate my fingernails. I hate my beaky nose and my shallow chin and my big honkin' boobs and my even bigger honkin' thighs. I hate my weird two-toned eyes and my static-attack hair and the fact that I don't just look like freakin' Catherine Zeta-Jones.

I hate video games and airplanes and how most the time long sleeves aren't long enough for my weird extra-long arms. I hate razor burn and chapped lips. I hate when people wear really bad colored contacts because they're not fooling anyone. I hate it when I bite the inside of my cheek. I hate paper cuts.

I hate my lack of self control. I hate my lack of emotional control. I hate that I am weak and selfish and I hate that I got myself into this awful situation. I hate myself for it. I hate myself for a lot of reasons, including that I hate myself for hating myself.

I hate that this is all I can write right now.

I'm gonna die alone! :D

So I was sitting in my bedroom alone at 8:00 on a Saturday night and I realized that nobody will ever want to date me because I'm a crazy person.

Just kidding. I didn't just realize this. I've known it for quite some time now. But I was thinking that I should try online dating, since only someone who has never met me in person would ever agree to go on a date with me. So I decided to come up with a profile. And I thought I'd share it here first.

Hello! My name is Glory Allegory and I'm looking for the father of my children! To determine whether or not you'd like to impregnate me, here are some things you should know. I'm currently a 20-something student living in my parents' basement. I don't go to a "real" college because I have no real aspirations yet, as all of my career goals are almost certainly unattainable. Also I'm cheap. As you might have guessed, I'm an artist! I also love baseball, the History Channel, and anything that has to do with George Washington. In my free time, I cut myself. I also talk to my cat in weird voices and watch My Little Pony. In a relationship, I bring a sense of humor that can best be described as self-incriminating.

Likes: Cats, Space, Dinosaurs, Geena Davis, Presidents, Baseball, Music that you've never heard of before.

Dislikes: People.

I hope that I've sparked your interest! Let me know if you'd like to procreate with me!!! ;)

Oh yeah.

I'd date me.

The Weather Sucks and So Does Nostradamus.

I've been... sick. Yeah. We'll go with that. Saying any more is both incriminating and complicated.

It snowed today. I hate that it snowed today. Because snow brings the reality of having four seasons right back to spit frost in my face. And I'm not down with that. Not even close to being down with that. Also, with midwestern weather having the flair for the dramatic it does, it thunder-snowed. Where else does that happen?

The fact that I don't control the weather endlessly frustrates me. I heard it was 70 yesterday (I don't know because I wasn't allowed outside) but then it snowed today? Seriously? Here's how it should be: It's 70-78 degrees for 85% of the year. It's cool and fall weather-y for 9% of the year, hot enough to go swimming for 4% of the year and then it will snow on December 23rd about 4 inches, enough to be pretty and play in but not enough to really disrupt life. We will have a white christmas. And then it will all melt by New Year and go back to being awesome until next December 23rd.

In other news, 52 days until Christmas, which makes me feel like the world is coming to an end. But actually, 414 days until the world comes to an end for real. According to the Mayans. And maybe Nostradamus but I'm pretty sure he was full of crap because all he ever said was crytic a-hole stuff like "The sky will turn dark and suffering will rain down upon the earth." Yeah, well, you know what buddy? I can do that too. "Everything will suck." See? I just predicted the future. And I didn't even have to be a cryptic a-hole about it. Suck it, Nostradamus.

Back to Christmas though... I don't really like Christmas. It's all commercial and cheerful. And I mean I'm as cheerful as the next person about the birth of our Savior, I really am. I think it's awesome. But like... I'm pretty sure there weren't gaudy lights and pine trees and jingle bells all over the effin' place when Jesus was chillin' in the manger. The expectation for cheer when there's like a 50% chance of me falling unceremoniously on my face on the ice is absurd. That's rights, beyotches, bah-m-f'in-humbug.

I'm getting nothing but coal in my stocking this year.

...which, seriously, Santa, enough with the fossil fuels. Can we... like... go green already?